Цветы
by GRIMMInsanity
Summary: Flowers, so simplistic in their place in the world. Yao always loved flowers, no matter what kinds of flowers they were. But it was something about the way his lover cared for them so easily, so lovingly, that made him feel almost betrayed. Forgotten.


Disclaimer: I do NOT own APH. If I did there would be so MANY different things going on, no matter WHAT history says~! ;D

Anyway~!

This is not my first attempt at a story and I hope you like it~!

Enjoy reading~!

_

* * *

_

_**F.L.O.W.E.R.S**_

_**They will never be forgotten….**_

_

* * *

_

The greenhouse had been a good idea. Even during winter, where he could still feel the chill of the cold on his bare skin from behind the thick glass, he knew his lover would forever be happy. For his precious sunflowers with their majestic and beautiful heads were growing splendidly under his Ivan's care.

He liked that.

His Ivan.

They had been together for about a year now.

No matter how many times he remembered and looked back onto it, Yao could never understand how he could have thought his lover had been so terrifying.

His ever so proud lover that would not stoop to begging, even if it killed him, was as regal as It got. He would never allow himself to beg, for anything, but at the time that he had fallen on his hands and knees to ask if Yao would like to go with him for dinner the next night after the nightly meeting, would always stay imprinted into the Asian's mind.

He was a simple man really; childish in his own way, but that naiveté brought a certain wisdom to him and his years of war and bloodshed.

He _knew_.

He _understood_.

And he would _never_ forget.

The pain from his long ago wounds would leave, but the scars would stay as fresh on his skin as they did when they were healed.

They both shared their own personal scars.

Scars that would never fade, no matter how much their countries prospered.

Yao gave a soft sigh as he stepped into the somewhat cooler greenhouse, leaving the warm house behind. Stepping up beside his lover, who was currently using a pair of scissors to cut off dead leaves and wilting flowers that made their brighter counterparts stand out even more, he watched as how Ivan's face was almost... Sad in a way. He always thought about this whenever he caught sight of his Russian man. Tending to flowers every season, be it cold or warm, he would always be smiling so sadly. As if it pained him to even think about what these flowers were to him.

Yao never asked.

He knew it wasn't his place.

He _wouldn't_ ask, really he wouldn't, but after a moment, he sat down on the bench a few feet away, a calm sentinel to the man's workings, before he tilted his head to the side, having let out his dark hair to form something of a curtain around his face and neck.

Ivan.

His Ivan.

He shivered slightly at those words in his mind, and smiled, relaxing.

The man, tall and lean, dressed in simply black pants that he owned, and a turtleneck sweater that made his thin frame stand out even more, he looked like a simple man caring for his garden. At peace and ever so wonderful. He wouldn't be surprised if someone thought he might have a wife and children, but as many had asked, he simply shook his head and smiled, heading off once more, Yao sending an apologetic look to them whenever it happened.

Those gentle touches, careful moving pale fingers, scissors set to the side as he began to pull out troublesome vines and dead leaves at the roots, having kneeled to get at them, Yao felt almost jealous.

Those careful touches so sweet and innocent, yet looking so sinful with that dazed and thinking face, sad smile still in place, he couldn't help himself, he turned his face away before he could say anything bad to upset his lover, knowing that he really did care for those beautiful and magnificent flowers.

After what seemed to be hours, to only be a few minutes, Yao stood and took to his lover's side once more, wrapping his arms around that perfect hand that had been wrapped around his waist in bed so perfectly not an hour and a half ago.

"Ivan?"He asked after a quiet moment, tilting his warm eyes up to stare at the heads.

"Hmm?"

The noise was soft, acknowledging, but at the same time not turning to his dark-haired beauty of a companion.

"Why do you care for these flowers so much?"

He knew he shouldn't ask, but his fellow nation's love of these beautiful flowers had always made him curious.

What were they for?

He remembered that every time the sunflowers would grow to their peaks, Ivan would cut them off halfway and head off somewhere, telling Yao that he would be back a few hours later. He trusted his lover, he knew he would not do anything like have an affair, but the nagging feeling was still there, deep in his heart.

He fazed back into reality, away from his thoughts, as he realized his lover had been quiet for a long moment, before sighing softly, tilting his head to press a sweet kiss to his temple, and pulling his arm out of Yao's grasp. The Chinese man heart lurched at what was happening, before relaxing at the arm that wrapped around his shoulders, tucking him into his side gently.

"_Цветы - для Мертвых_..."He murmured softly, still smiling sadly.

Yao shivered at the words, his lover's voice so calm and quiet, made the words seem even harsher then they should. The Chinese man tilted his head, hand grasping roughly the turtleneck. It was cotton wasn't it? A comfy material. He shook his head and bit back the tears, knowing he must have seemed weak at the moment.

"I'm sorry Ivan.."He mumbled quietly, tilting his head up to look at him imploringly. "I didn't know..."

The Russian man for the first time that morning, glanced at his lover, violet eyes glowing at him, before his smiled warmed gently, and he pressed a kiss to his forehead, bringing up a warm and large hand to wipe away at the tears.

Yao always loved Ivan's large hands.

"Its fine, _Jao_..."He replied softly, feeling his lover's body shiver at the sweet name."They have long since passed..."

He stopped after a moment, before glancing over at the sunflowers.

The light chose _then_ to come out, showing off them the pure white of the snow around their home. The sunflowers glowed, almost shivering in the light, as if they were turning their heads to the brightness of it. They looked as if they were almost standing proudly in the sun, and Yao felt himself going breathless, the way the bright green and yellow of the flowers, mixing with that of the pure that outlined them through the glass behind the plants made it an almost ethereal sight.

Ivan chose then to finish his statement, eyes bright and warm, here in the present and now, smile sad, but in all, a good warm smile, perfect for the mood. Yao, if not having loving him now, would have fallen in love with the sight in an instant. But he loved his Ivan; all he knew was that he had fallen into the abyss called love once more. And he wasn't going to stop falling anytime soon. The words were beautiful, as they were whispered into the silence.

"_They will never be forgotten_..."

* * *

Ok.. So. I hope you like it darlings~! 3

Now, This isn't the first time I'm posting something on this site, but ah well, I ccleared my accoutn a while back and I'm tired of it not having anyt stories on it~!

So go right ahead and comment and review it all you like!

I'll be posting more stuff later, so don't worry!

BTW: Translations

Цветы - для Мертвых = Flowers.. for the Dead.

Yes, I do speak fluent Russian and should you ever need help, I'm here to help~! ;D

Have fun, darlings~!

**_Gabriel_**


End file.
